DO NOT fear the number of chapters; most are quite short. A woman finds herself in the Empire of Hell, composed of six kingdoms, who will war with each other to gain control of her blood. Explore the depravities of humanity, feel the passion of love...

This is the last chapter! I will eventually start the sequel at some near singularity in time. For now, please read and review!

Thanks for all those who have continued on with the story from the beginning, especially PersephonesLove!

I felt, in a cognitive haze, strong arms lifting me up from the ground. My head rolled from side to side, the neck muscles not able to support the weight of my cranium at this point.

"We're losing her." someone said.

"Not yet. We still have time."

"Get her to the Healing Temple. Now!" Amlab commanded.

"Who sent her into battle?" Avaritio demanded to know.

"She was with me, and then she just ran out of the Temple." Obdura explained.

I moaned, the blood leaving me at a fast rate and the pain overtaking my mind. I was afraid I would die on the battlefield. For good.

I felt myself being carried across the field. I didn't hear the sound of clashing metal, only the groans and grunts of the wounded and living. I wondered how many had died in battle. Would I be one of the casualties?

Next thing I knew, I was on a soft surface. A bed. My armor and clothing were being stripped from my body, but I did not feel ashamed of my nakedness. My mind was too hazy to care about something as trivial as a lack of clothing. My survival was more important than my modesty.

Through my blurry vision, I watched as I was connected to a heart rate monitor.

"She seems fine, but very weak." Ravoe explained, his head turned towards the machine.

"Some of her ribs have been fractured, and she has major contusions over her entire body. She has sustained internal wounds. I fear she is bleeding not only externally, but internally as well. Her joints are swollen and she seems to be losing consciousness. This does not bode well." Ravoe said to no one in particular.

I watched unintelligibly as Obdura gathered supplies and Ravoe stood over me, hanging up IV lines and pumping me with various fluids. I could feel myself slipping away, almost floating away, losing attachment with my physical body.

"Shit! what's happening!" I heard Amlab exclaim.

I could feel my body convulsing, but it was as if I were only a spectator, a specter without corporeality.

I felt my body trying to take in breaths, but the task was too laborious. A wheezing sound rattled in my lungs like ancient paper.

"We're losing her." Obdura said flatly while she worked energetically around me.

Minutes bled into hours, and still my body refused to cooperate with The Healers' efforts.

Eventually, I was back in that light gray region I had been in once before. I was back in the First Realm of Death, as I would eventually come to know its name. Once more, I felt icy wetness wrap around me and pressure began building up inside of me. I felt a sort of internal release—I felt nothing, no pain, no emotion, just a meditative calmness.

Below me, I could faintly hear Ravoe's voice confirming what I already knew.

"I'm sorry Amlab. I tried." Ravoe's voice choked a bit.

"Shahor's dead."

IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO CONTINUE READING ABOUT HELL AND SHAHOR, AMLAB, RAVOE, and all the other characters, plus many more strange ones, PLEASE READ THE SEQUEL ON FICPRESS, ENTITLED SEQUEL: HEART PLUNDER. Thank you for reading! ~Neuravinci

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